


At The Bakery

by mansikka



Series: Under Observation [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bakery, Fluff, Human Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-15 06:57:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9224048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka





	

“I will wait,”

Steven takes in the folded arms and the unwavering expression and bites back a grumble about demanding customers. The guy's not actually being very demanding if he's honest with himself, Steven acknowledges, then turns away and still finds the time to feel pressured by his presence. He only wants a pie, for godsake, Steven tells himself again, bending and checking the oven to see if his estimate of another fifteen minutes is actually accurate.

It is, he decides, glancing back over his shoulder at the guy who's bending and inspecting the counter with such intensity that Steven wonders for a second if he's some kind of mystery shopper come to catch him out. But then he straightens up from the oven and rolls his eyes at himself, given that _a_ , this is his bakery so he'd know if there was a mystery shopper due, and _b_ , he's not even signed up for having mystery shoppers coming in to inspect his goods and services and tell him he's not upselling and that there's a handprint smeared on his countertop.

Anyway.

“So, uh,” Steven tries, attempting a spot of small talk conversation. Which he's never been very good at so doesn't know why he's bothering, but then, the guy in front of him looks just as stilted by the idea so perhaps they're on an equal footing of awkwardness here. “This pie. It's for after lunch? Dinner tonight?”

“I think it is intended as a substitute for both meals,” the man says, gruff as anything, though not actually sounding particularly grumpy. “Actually, I will take two pies; he will likely remind me that it has been a long time since breakfast,” he amends, frowning as though annoyed he hadn't thought of that for himself.

“Not planning on having any yourself?” Steven says, and for some reason that makes the man smile.

“Perhaps I will have a slice,” he amends, giving a minute nod.

“Not a pie fan?” Steven asks, and it's obvious from the look of the guy he's not someone who's a slave to dessert, looks a little bit too toned for that. Makes him a little mistrustful if he's honest, but then, Steven is a baker. Anyone who doesn't like baked goods is essentially wrong in his eyes.

“I have no objection to pie,” the man says, sounding most reasonable, “however the pie is not for me,”

“Oh?” Steven finds himself asking. It's not like it's a slow morning either; is he just killing time until the oven timer pings and releases him this enforced social prison or is this slightly weird individual just a little bit intriguing?

“The pie is for Dean,” the man says, as though Steven should have known this already and is a fool for not.

“And Dean is...?” Steven prompts. Might as well keep it up, he thinks, there's got to be at least another thirteen minutes to go.

“My...” and okay, Steven thinks, surprised, he wasn't expecting to see anything ruffle the guy; he just doesn't seem the type to get ruffled. But then he's mumbling, “ _boyfriend_ ,” not like he doesn't want to say the word, but that he is doubtful of its meaning. And that it very definitely doesn't sound like the kind of word that should come out of his mouth. Very odd behavior.

“Ah,” Steven says, shrugging. If this guy's worried that he'd have a problem with the implication of what a man saying the word boyfriend means, clearly he's in the wrong place. Steven doesn't care one iota about anyone else's preferences. Firstly because it's none of his business and secondly, hey. You love who you love, right?

The man appears to be still trying out the word in his head, tilting his head slightly to the side as he does. “Dean does not like the word boyfriend because we are _not horny teenager_ s,” and hearing that has Steven forcing back a blast of laughter.

“The word partner has...” and then the man stops, looks Steven over with caution as though choosing his words before he says them, “work implications that seem... it seems inadequate,”

“All this stuff about labels is kind of confusing, right?” Steven says, smiling.

“It is,” he hears back, and the man's tone is grateful of all things. “It is bewildering remembering the correct terms for everything,”

“Gotya,” Steven laughs, feeling himself relax, wrapping his fingers lightly around the edge of the counter. “My sister's like a magnet for all the latest politically correct things to say. Think she lives her life on Twitter or something. Always making not-so-subtle suggestions about what I should say, even when... I mean. People are people whatever. Right? I mean I'd never purposely say anything insulting to anyone but. All these different... labels we put on each other and it's... it's confusing,”

“Agreed,” the man says, taking a step closer to the counter. After a second he begins extending his hand out to shake, and the way he does it suggests this is something he's been told he's supposed to do when greeting someone new, not something that comes naturally to him. “Cas,”

“Steven,” answers, noting Cas has a very normal, solid grip. Good.

“'Twitter',” Cas repeats, testing the word out on his tongue. “Your sister finds this...” and then he comes to a stop like he's stuck for what to call it.

“Social media?” Steven tries. Social media, he sneers to himself. They're all still websites to him, no matter how addicted he is to his Tumblr feed and Reddit threads. Cas is nodding sagely back at him though, as if he's said something wise. Takes all sorts, Steven thinks to himself, waiting for him to go on.

“This Twitter. Your sister finds it educational?” Cas finishes, managing to sound both hopeful and doubtful all in one go.

“Uh...” Steven begins, because sure. Twitter is educational, he supposes, possibly for all the wrong reasons at times, but still. “Sure. Yeah. Can be,”

“Is it available as an app?” Cas says, and wow, Steven thinks, still resisting the urge to laugh. How does the word app manage to sound so obscure? Exotic even? And how does this Cas not already know that?

“It is,” is what Steven says anyway. “Sara—my sister has it on every device you can imagine. I only have it on my tablet though. If it's on everything it's... you know. Multiple notifications,”

“I understand,” Cas says, grave and sympathetic. “When my brother-in-law set up my tablet when I—” and then comes to a startled stop, thinking over his words again before continuing, “when I arrived,” he settles on, “he thought it would be hilarious to set my notifications to different farmyard animals. I have no idea why a chicken would sound so... enthused that I had received an email,”

Steven grins, thinks Cas' brother-in-law might be the aggravating kind of amusing, then does a couple of double takes but starts with, “Uh... _arrived_?”

Cas nods, smiling warm, and humble. “Dean and I share our home with his—our brother, Sam. Technically speaking, they share their home with me, since I am the one who arrived most recently,”

“Ah,” Steven says, because hey, if that works for them, who's to judge anyone's living arrangements? But then if Sam is his brother-in-law... “So Dean's your husband,” Steven concludes out loud, surprised because he's actually mildly interested in this conversation.

Cas raises his hand and looks down at the ring on his finger with a smile on his face that's just adoring. “It is... unofficial. But yes. That is correct. Dean is my husband,” and now his voice is just ecstatic.

“You forget or something?” Steven laughs, teasing him and kicking himself for it. But Cas just nods, actually blushes and gives out this almighty sigh of contentment.

“It is... a new label to learn. A good one,” Cas amends, wide eyed as though the thought he might appear unhappy is horrific. “It seems more natural to refer to Sam as brother-in-law, since Sam has been calling me his brother-in-law for far longer than Dean and I... first began wearing these. Which was only last week, actually, ” he says, fingers out and tracing over the surface of his ring, as though he really can't believe his luck.

Other people are strange, Steven thinks to himself but doesn't think it in a bad way, and offers up a smile, showing he means no harm. “So your—Dean. He likes pie?” he says, checking the time and estimating how many minutes baking are left. Then blurts out a belated, “Congratulations,”

Cas smiles, humble and proud. “Thank you. And I believe Dean would say he loves pie more than life itself,” Cas says, and there's a roll of his eyes that's brimming with affection that has Steven smiling all over again.

“Nothing wrong with that,” he says, because it's true. Good pie is magical. “What about yourself? Not a fan?” Because Cas seems like a decent enough guy but if he doesn't like pie then...

“I enjoy pie,” Cas says again, but his eyes are drifting over the counter with curiosity.

“See something else you'd like to try?” Steven says, trying to guess what he might be wanting. Cas' eyes continue scanning for several more seconds before he points, fingertip one inch from the glass as he nods.

“This one,”

Steven looks at Cas' choice and smiles again, relieved that he likes at least some kind of dessert. “You prefer cake?”

“It is a bone of contention in our relationship,” Cas says solemnly, and oh how badly does that make Steven want to laugh. But he's prevented from doing so by the ping telling him the pie they're both waiting for is now ready and holds his hand up to tell Cas to wait. Steven makes quick work of removing the pies from the rack and boxing up one, then another which he quickly tops it off with this sweet little wedding decoration he found when looking for wedding cake toppers that were more than just the generic and non-inclusive bride and groom ones, then goes back to the counter with a third box ready in his hand.

“Here. Try some of this,” he says, slicing off a thin wedge of the honey cake Cas has chosen and holding it out to him on a paper plate. Cas takes the sample gratefully and draws it up to his mouth, humming around it in approval the moment he tastes it.

“This is delicious,” he enthuses, nodding. “I would like to take some of this also,”

“Even if Dean objects?” Steven laughs, though already slicing off a generous wedge for him.

“Yes,” Cas says, decisive. “Though I will also take something for Sam,”

“What's Sam's thing?” Steven asks, shifting the honey cake to one side of the box to add something else alongside it. He looks up, curious to hear Cas actually laughing a little.

“Dean would say rabbit food,” he says, gleeful, though his eyes are scanning the counter again. “I think perhaps this one,” he says after a moment, and Steven's instantly cutting a large slice of that cake as well.

“He's a health nut?” Steven asks, folding up the boxes with his tongue stuck out in concentration.

“Dean would say... less polite things,” Cas settles for, still smiling.

“So if you guys got, uh, married only last week,” Steven is saying, feeling actual cogs turning in his brain, “how come you're not on some kind of honeymoon already?”

Cas, the quiet, stoic-looking slightly aloof guy that had come into his bakery mere minutes ago blows Steven's mind then, by actually rocking on the balls of his feet in what's got to be excitement.

“We have some work to attend to here,” he says, and all kinds of professions flash through Steven's brain for Cas. He settles on private investigator because Cas has that kind of oddness about him that probably means he's better at observing people than interacting with them. Apart from his _Dean_ of course, Steven smiles. “Once we are done we will drive via the bu —home, so that Sam can remain there whilst Dean and I take a road trip. He has promised to show me many things,” Cas beams, and Steven's clearing his throat and chiding himself for the childish I bet he is his brain whispers at him.

“How come they've got you on a cake run?” Steven asks quickly to change the subject. Seriously, he thinks to himself, I need to get me a life if I'm stood here intrigued by someone else's that I've only spoken to for five minutes. When he glances up, Steven notes that Cas looks embarrassed, his cheeks blushing the tiniest bit of red.

“I... lost a bet,” Cas tells him, clearing his throat in discomfort. His eyes dart very clearly away so that they can't make contact.

“I... say no more,” Steven says, shaking his head and trying not to imagine what sort of bet it might have been. Cas smiles with gratitude and slides out his wallet, chooses a few more things from the counter and pays.

“Hey,” Steven says, holding his hand up again asking Cas to wait. Under Cas' curious gaze Steven pulls out yet another box, layers it up with fancy tissue paper like Sara showed him how to do (and that he's secretly grateful for) then turns back to his display pondering and slides out his red velvet cake. He can kill two birds with one stone, he thinks, cutting three thick wedges of the stuff and putting the remainder to one side to take to Sara because it's her favorite.

“So this,” Steven says, finishing off the folding of the box and grabbing up a paper bag to slot all of the boxes into with the red velvet cake on top. “This is wedding cake. Belated, absolutely not pie, but I can't imagine anyone will turn their noses up at it – even if I do say so myself. There's a slice for all three of you,”

Cas' eyes are on the bag as Steven holds it over the counter and the look he gives him makes Steven think people rarely do nice things for Cas. Which makes him sad. Then bewildered at himself. Then sad all over again. Then goddamn blush when Cas says thank you so soft and thankful.

“Well. I hope Dean likes his pie,” Steven says, shaking his head at himself to clear those thoughts as Cas gently takes the bag from his hand.

“I am sure he will; it smells delicious,” Cas tells him with a pleased nod.

“So... how come it's a... what'd you call it? Substitute for both lunch and dinner?” Steven asks as Cas turns to leave. Cas turns back and opens his mouth to speak but then closes it again, giving a small shake of his head.

“Sam would tell me that I was oversharing, were I to explain,” he settles for, and Steven is certain there's a definite blush to his face now. Both of their faces in fact.

“Got it,” he tells him, hand up and asking for no further explanation.

“Thank you,” Cas says and with final smile leaves the bakery, leaving Steven to stare after him with a rueful grin.

 


End file.
